Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“What are these?”
“Sea grapes.”
“Sea grapes?” She asks like it’s something from Mars. She holds one up to her face and turns it around inspecting it. She brings it up to her nose and sniffs. “Should we wash it off or something?”
“Sure, you have the water your feet are in.”
“I could hate you,” she grumbles, and it’s cute and all, but she should hate me. I kidnapped her. I don’t understand the dynamic we have going on between us. I need to get her out of my head. I need to make sure there is a wall between us.
“I’m sure you say that to all the men who kidnap you,” I say mainly to remind her of our situation. I think it does because, for a second, she gets a strange look on her face. Then she delicately bites into the grape. Her face is full of concentration, and she must decide she likes it because she plops what remains of the small morsel in her mouth and goes for the next one.
“I’ve read your file,” she begins, and I ignore her. “Why don’t you ever tell the parole board you’re sorry for your crime?”
Her question angers me. How many people have asked me that? I have fucking lost count. “I’m not sorry, my only regret is that I only got to kill him once.”
“Saying things like that is why you’re on your fourth parole hearing, can’t you even feign remorse?”
“Why? I’m glad the son of a bitch isn’t breathing. I’m thrilled the last face he saw was mine. No point in lying about it.”
“Don’t you want to be free? To have a life again, Max?”
I like the way she says my name. It makes me react, and I’m not just talking my dick, though that is definitely alert. Hearing her say my name causes something in my chest to hurt. Maybe it’s just the sea grapes.
“There’s nothing for me out here,” I tell her, dusting off my hands. I go and sit beside her and rip off one of the sleeves on my jumpsuit. Once I get that done, I do the other and carefully dry her foot off. Then I take part of one of the torn sleeves and wrap it around her foot, before putting it back in her shoe. I repeat my actions with the other foot.
“There could be,” she says while I’m tending to her, and I ignore those words. She’s wrong. I did what I did, and there’s no going back.
“Time to get a move on,” I say, helping her up and effectively shutting her down. I haven’t got time for her questions or the thoughts that having her around put in my head.
This time, I stay off the path. I know where I’m going, I just don’t know why. I should wait to be found and let Tess get back to her world, which is far, far away from my own. I know that logically, I just can’t manage to do that. Not yet, not right now. Maybe all the time without having a woman around has bothered me. I just can’t let her go, even if it would be better for both of us if I did.
It feels like we’ve been walking for days. In reality, it has probably only been hours. Max hasn’t said anything else, and it has been radio silence except for heavy breathing, which is all mine. Apparently, I’m out of shape, and Mad Max is a freaking machine.
I thought Florida was all flat land, but Max has somehow managed to find an actual hill. When we come over the top of it, he stops abruptly and jerks me so that I crash into the back of him.
“Umpf,” I grunt.
Silence.
“Yeah I didn’t expect an apology,” I mutter. There’s nothing around us, and I’m not sure what he finds so captivating. “Um…Max?”
Silence.
“Fine, don’t mind me. I just came here to try and save your ass and help you get out of jail today—which, by the way, I totally would have, had you cooperated. But, no…you had to get pissy and now I find myself kidnapped, threatened, spanked like a two-year-old child…”
“Don’t fucking lie,” he growls, and I stop my tirade to look up at him.
“Nothing about what we did resembles punishing a child. I can show you the difference if you want. I’d be happy to.”
I see the threat in his eyes and decide silence from me might be my best recourse. He stands there for another minute, watching me and then he goes over to a weeping willow that is covered in Spanish moss. He stands with his back against the trunk and walks straight ahead, heel to toe, almost if he is counting off paces. While he is distracted, I look around for something to defend myself with, and find a rock a few feet in front of me. I bend down to pick it up, being as slow and quiet as I can. I keep my eyes on Max the entire time, not wanting him to see me.